


try

by rain_at_dawn



Series: stars, scattered [17]
Category: SHINee
Genre: M/M, Mild Angst, Soft Feels, Undefined Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:14:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22863868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rain_at_dawn/pseuds/rain_at_dawn
Summary: We played lovers in the fallin' rainYou can't tell me it's just a game
Relationships: Kim Kibum | Key/Lee Jinki | Onew
Series: stars, scattered [17]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1608877
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	try

**Author's Note:**

> prompted by @kibaem_ah on Twitter
> 
> song inspo - try by island

He wakes up from his dream with a splitting headache; the worst part is that the opposite wall in his bedroom is painted sea blue, reminding him of how his legs had given way onboard the boat in his nightmare and how his stomach churns now in reality. _This is it_ , Kibum thinks, _the worst of both worlds colliding._

It’s pushed to the back of his mind as he hobbles over to the bathroom and empties the contents of his belly into the irritatingly gleaming cistern.

* * *

There’s nothing else to do but call in sick and try to swallow mouthfuls of toast before attempting a go at the infection with antibiotics. With packets of instant soup in the pantry and bottles of unsweetened orange juice in the fridge, he’d been so sure he was prepared for flu season. But the sore throat and runny nose have snuck in with full force, along with the semblance of a migraine.

One slice of bread down and a pill swallowed with some juice, and then he returns to bed, determined to succumb to dreamless sleep. But his thoughts run hot beneath his duvet, feverishly digging through the memories of night crawls to Jinki’s doorstep. Not much to do about that except jog his memory – and planner app – for any dates… no, ‘appointments’, he corrects himself, and send the appropriate messages to Jinki, apologizing for not being able to make it.

If there’s the thinnest silver lining to today, it’s that Jinki’s answer is immediate:

_‘oh you’re sick?’_

Kibum barely has the strength to roll his eyes, let alone send Jinki a sickbed selca to emphasize his point, which is fair reason to turn petulant and just leave him on read. He flips his phone over on the bedside table so that the screen faces down on the milky brown wood and turns himself away from it, smothering his face into the welcoming embrace of his pillow.

But the thoughts are still warm and uncomfortable, stifling the calm he tries to recreate in his head from the nocturnes he’d etched into Jinki’s sheets. Not quite a romance, but not quite _not_ either.

Kibum reaches out to tap a response:

_‘just a cold’_

He waits a minute, which turns into three before he flips the phone back down on the table again.

* * *

He wakes up from a distinct lack of dreaming to a buzzer in his head. But he’s wrong; it’s the buzzer to his door. Kibum can’t bring himself to attend to it, until his phone vibrates, a solid thrum against wood.

_‘hey’_

_‘are you awake?’_

_‘just thought I’d check in on you’_

_‘or if you’re not up to it, just ignore the buzzer’_

Kibum can’t ignore it. Maybe it’s the heat building up in his room from the daylight streaming in through the blinds, but there’s probably a better reason to not keep Jinki waiting outside. He drags himself to the door to let him in, not even bothering to fake a smile for the sake of it. With Jinki is the only time he’s not obliged to keep up appearances.

Dear Jinki, bless him, to have come all this way from across town, just to deliver a plastic carrier bag which contained a sealed bowl of his mother’s chicken porridge and a smile that was all his own. Kibum hasn’t put a label on their relationship, but as far as they’ve gone, they’re barely friends.

Jinki makes his way inside Kibum’s apartment, instinctively looking for the kitchen in which to place the hot, heavenly-smelling bowl presumably. It’s a sizeable piece of ceramic he ends up pulling out of the carrier bag; big enough for two servings of porridge and then some. Kibum has no appetite, but can’t bear the thought of Jinki lugging that full bowl back on the train ride home.

He goes about setting the table, taking great pains to keep a reasonable distance between himself and Jinki. His legs – and memories – threaten to unwind, exposing his real weakness for the man that fills his smaller bowl for him and asks him if he wants extra rice to go with it.

The last time Kibum had expected to see him was in a dream, yet here he is, ruining everything they’d managed to build. And all Kibum can do is shake his head while he swallows mouthful after mouthful of porridge, crunching down on a chicken bone here and there.

Jinki watches him nervously, asking him if the stock is okay.

Kibum bites into a piece of softened onion, inhales its pungent heat, and fails to wipe away the tears that begin to stream from his eyes.

* * *

When he drags himself back to bed, he drags Jinki along with him.

“You sure?” Jinki asks, settling around him. “I don’t mind either way.”

That’s the thing, because Kibum wants him to mind, to only give in this way around him. What’s that saying? Live a little, but don’t live a lie? Fool me once or not at all? He can’t think straight, so everything ends up blind-sided and angled only from his perspective. Or at least, that’s what it seems like, lying on his side with his back pressed into Jinki’s chest.

“Eat, sleep, wake.” Jinki hums, perhaps to himself. “Nothing doing.”

“Only for me?”

“Only for you.”

It fills something inside Kibum, something the if’s and but’s have never covered. Jinki’s arms move around him and Kibum closes his eyes, imagines that he’s on that boat in his nightmare again, but in control this time, with nothing but the whistling wind to contend with. Nonetheless, there’s a stroke of heat in his belly.

_The porridge_ , he thinks. It was good; maybe he ought to send Jinki’s mother a note, thanking her.

In time, Jinki falls asleep before him and the low hum of his snores fill the space. It’s not even as unbearably hot as it had been earlier.

Despite himself, Kibum feels whole for the first time today. 


End file.
